Tasting the Rain
by yesimahuman
Summary: When you move too fast, it gets harder and harder for you to slow down. Life and love are fragile, fragile, things, and running through them too fast can hurt. Written for The Firm's December Prompt: Taste


Tasting the Rain

xxx

Alex did not believe that rain tasted sweet. London weather was foul and unpleasant, and it would be contrary to the spirit of the weather's gloominess if the rain tasted sweet.

Maybe he had tried tasting the rain before he had turned fourteen, and maybe he had discovered what the rain tasted like.

Now, he couldn't remember anymore.

xxx

Everyone died a second time in Alex's dreams.

Even those whose deaths he had not personally witnessed died in his dreams. The MI6 agent that had been killed when they stormed Point Blanc, the reporter that Damian Cray had killed, all the people who had tried to stop madmen and paid the price, Yassen, even, who had refused to kill Alex- they all died again in Alex's dreams.

Whenever he awoke, he always regretted the fact that life was so short and fragile.

And when he looked in a mirror after taking a shower, he could see the scar where the Scorpia assassin had shot him.

Whenever he saw it, he was always struck with the realization that _his _life could be ended at any time.

It was always someone else who died, but he was someone else to the rest of the world.

xxx

Time marched on, and as it did, he saw Jack fall in love. Just like any close friends, Alex knew it before Jack herself did. Alex knew that the handsome man with the twinkling eyes had fallen in love with Jack as well.

"Alex, I've got something to tell you," Jack said one night over spaghetti.

"Let me guess," he said, smiling, "you and Brendon are getting married?"

Jack gaped. "How did you-"

"There's a ring on your finger and you're smiling too much. It doesn't take Sherlock Holmes to figure it out, Jack," he said, rolling his eyes in amusement.

"Well, yes, we are," Jack said, and Alex could detect a hint of a blush creeping up on her face. "And I was going to ask you if you would like to come."

Alex froze, the pasta halfway into his mouth.

"Why are you so surprised?" Jack asked, raising her eyebrows, "you're my ward, it's only natural that you attend, isn't it?"

Alex coughed suddenly, his fork clattering against the bowl. "No, sorry, some spaghetti was caught in my throat," he said hastily. "I would love to come!"

It was a shame, Alex realized, that he would never attend his own wedding and vow undying love. After all, he was a spy- how could he fall in love?

xxx

_Boom._

A rose petal drifted slowly to the ground as the building behind it exploded. Its crimson petals were never only one color- they always shifted hues when you looked at it from different angles. It smelled like perfume- more accurately, perfume smelled like it. Mankind's chemicals could never compete with nature.

Alex didn't have much to do except watch the petal glide softly downwards. He was too weak to move. He had done his job, and now it was over. Another madman dead, and the world would get to live another day. With a start, Alex realized that he almost couldn't remember his first adversary- they were all blurring into one another, becoming the same man.

The MI6 field medics rushed over to attend to their precious agent- MI6 couldn't afford to lose him to Death. He was far too valuable, and they wouldn't hand him over without a fight. Luckily for them, his burns would not be very severe, despite his close proximity to the explosion that had destroyed the building.

The Rider Luck wouldn't let him leave the world without using every single one of its little twists of fate.

When the petal hit the ground, it began to burn. The fire from the explosion Alex had set consumed it, leaving behind a wasted, blackened shell.

The shell smelled like ashes, and the previously varied colors of the petal were now uniform- only black, and nothing else.

And then the shell crumbled away, leaving behind only a trail of dust.

xxx

Alex realized exactly what was happening when he saw Brendon at "work."

"What the hell?" he shouted, furious. "What the hell?"

Brendon had obviously not anticipated encountering Alex at his office- the front desk should have notified him. "Alex, I can-"

A familiar feeling crept up Alex's spine. He knew who it was without even turning around. "What is it, Blunt?" he asked.

"Gentlemen," Blunt said, impassive as ever. Alex hated impassive people. They were either businessmen, or spies, and Alex didn't like either of the two very much. Blunt was even worse. He was both a businessman _and _a spy. "Why don't we discuss this in a more civil place?"

Alex snorted. "Do I have a choice?"

Blunt just looked at him with an almost pitying gaze. To Alex, it just looked like he was being superior. _Again._

Brendon sighed. "Fine, let's go."

xxx

Alex Rider, understandably, was considerably upset.

Brendon Jackson, equally understandably, was very uncomfortable standing next to the teenager.

Alan Blunt was just… _blunt._

Blunt initiated the conversation. "Well, Alex," he began, "understand that we have you and your family's security in our minds constantly."

If looks could kill, there would be a hole, perfectly circular, in Alan Blunt's forehead.

"We assigned Mr. Jackson to look after your guardian, Jack Starbright, for you."

Alex snapped a look at Brendon, horrified. "It _wasn't _a coincidence that you two kept running into each other!"

Brendon remained silent.

"You two had coffee together at the same Starbucks every morning!" he shouted, fuming. "That's how you met her, and now I learn that you were just keeping tabs on her! God, isn't that stalking or something? That's should be _fucking illegal!_"

"Alex," Blunt said, as stoic as always, "please, calm down."

"Look, just answer me this," Alex said, "was the marriage part of this?"

Blunt, Alex noticed with considerable satisfaction, looked irritated at the mention of the marriage.

"No," Brendon said, speaking for the first time. "I fell in love with Jack out of my own accord."

"How?" Alex barked.

Brendon stared. "I… found her charming, witty, attractive…"

No, Alex thought, as he stormed out of the room. That wasn't what I meant, he thought.

_How could a spy fall in love?_

It wasn't fair. Spies weren't allowed to love. Spies weren't allowed to live.

xxx

Maybe, Alex thought, standing by the coffin. Maybe this was why spies weren't supposed to fall in love. It wasn't a matter of _could, _but a matter of _should._

Every time he looked at Jack's face, he would be reminded that love, as well as life, was altogether too fragile.

And Alex couldn't help but imagining every single one of the rose petals sprinkled over Brendon's coffin as a lifeless, smoking, burnt out husk.

The rain fell down, but Alex didn't care. He was numb and angry and confused, and the little _pitter-patter _reached his ears but not his mind, and the sweet taste- maybe rain _was _sweet- never registered.

xxx

Alex was always running.

It didn't matter whether he was running _from _something or _to _something, the fact of the matter was that he was always running- running to save the world, running from MI6 and then running back right into their arms, running to find some satisfaction to fulfill the gaping hole where his life once was.

Maybe being a spy was only about running.

xxx

"Alan," Mrs. Jones said, "can I speak with you?"

"It's about Alex, isn't it?" Blunt said, shuffling around files on his desk.

"We've given him over a dozen missions in this past year alone. Don't you think-"

"Not all of them were that much of a challenge to him," Blunt said, "and anyways, his perfect success rate certainly does say something about his abilities."

"He's just a boy, Alan!" Mrs. Jones exclaimed.

"I'm surprised," Blunt said, though he never really was very surprised, he only pretended to be. "You've never had any qualms about using Alex."

But Blunt knew better- knew that Jones had a heart, unlike many of MI6's executives. She had a heart, as miniscule as it might be.

"Not using him like this Alan," Mrs. Jones, "not putting so much stress-"

"You really don't understand, do you?" Blunt said. "Alex, despite whatever he tells himself, _likes _being kept on his toes. It's in his blood. He can't stop- his mind won't let him."

And deep down, Alex, who had become much better at listening in on conversations without being detected, knew that Blunt was right.

xxx

Alex ran for all he was worth, trying to escape the inferno behind him. It was a fireball, racing towards him, consuming everything it its path. He could see the faces of them in the fire- he could see Damian Cray, he could see Julia Rothman, he could see Winston Yu, he could see them all.

And out of the corner of his eye, Alex could see the burnt petals raining down like a divine judgment from the sky.

He had been buried alive in them. He had died screaming when he had woken up, covered in cold sweat.

Alex Rider feared death.

Stop running, Alex tried telling himself, but his body was non-responsive. Stop running so you can be normal again, so you can play football and fall in love and just open your goddamn mouth and taste rain again.

He couldn't remember what the rain _felt _like anymore. Couldn't remember what it _tasted _like, what it _sounded _like, goddamnit, he was even beginning to forget how it _looked _like!

And Alex didn't want to run anymore- didn't want to run from death anymore, didn't want to run _to _death anymore, didn't want to face the fire at the end of the tunnel and feel the heat on his face, because he was going so fast.

He didn't want to burn.

xxx

_Raindrops blur, moving too fast to be touched, not to mention tasted. And the boy's standing still as the world rushes around him- but he knows that he's the one who's racing along, he's the one who's a downed fighter jet about to hit the hellfire as the world stands still and watches._

_ But, maybe, in the end, the boy knows that in his heart that he'll be able to taste the rain before he's gone._

_ Just maybe._

xxx

Review, please. Hope I got Alex right. I feel kinda lazy about the ending, not bothering to right a real climax and resolution, but I think you can kinda make the stuff before the last line the climax and resolution. I can see how you would hate this, if so, feel free to tell me. If there's any lack in the variation of sentence structure, tell me. I'll be pissed. Prone2dementia warned me bout that, and if I couldn't catch it in my proofread, then I'll be upset.


End file.
